


Reconnected

by kcstories



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-06
Updated: 2010-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-05 22:17:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcstories/pseuds/kcstories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter and Nathan reconnect after Peter's 'death' in S1.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reconnected

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** Heroes belongs to Tim Kring and NBC. This story was written for fun, not profit.  
> **Warnings:** Incest, vague sexual situations, strong language.

There's a harsh creak of hinges when the bedroom door opens, or maybe that's only the impression Peter gets because everything seems so unbearably _loud_ today. He has to wonder if his confrontation with Sylar has anything to do with that; noise was never this intrusive before he… well… _died_.

A hesitant voice sounds from somewhere to his right. "Peter?"

"Yeah, I'm awake," comes the mumbled response, and he turns over so that he can face the person who just came in.

Nathan. Peter wasn't expecting anyone else at this time of night.

The sheets rustle slightly as the elder Petrelli sits down on the bed. "Yeah," he says in a flat tone. "I figured that might be the case. I couldn't sleep, either."

And then, for a good ten minutes, there is silence, as two pairs of similar brown eyes gaze into each other in the half-light, and an unspoken question hangs heavy in the air.

Nathan clears his throat. "So," he says, sounding uncharacteristically nervous and surprisingly shrill to his brother's ears—damn this new ability, or whatever it is. "Would you like some company?"

Peter sighs. He's loath to come across as being weak or needy, but then solitude hasn't done him any favours tonight, either. "Yeah," he finally admits. "I would."

Visibly relieved, Nathan smiles. "Okay."

Peter scoots over to make room. Another rustling of sheets follows, and soon he can feel comforting arms around him and warm lips on his face.

Sighing softly, he rests his head against his brother's chest, enjoying the feel of the cotton pyjama top that's brushing his cheek and the familiar safety of Nathan's body so close to his own.

How much he has missed this, and clearly he's not the only one. Large hands trail down Peter's bare back, making him wonder if what he wants to do right now really is to sleep.

No. It isn't. And it's probably not what he _needs_, either.

Nathan's lips trace the shell of Peter's left ear and then kiss a trail down Peter's neck, and Peter's heart begins to race.

"H-Hang on," he says urgently, his voice breathy and anxious as he considers where they are. "Are you sure that this, doing this _now_, is such a good idea, Nate? I mean, Ma's just a few doors down the hall, and so is Claire, and…"

"Shhh." A kiss is dropped just below Peter's right ear. "Ma probably knows about us anyway," he says, as though it's the most normal, obvious thing in the world and pretty funny, really, and not any kind of problem at all.

Incredulous, Peter blinks. He pulls back slightly, splutters "W-W-What?" and stares at his brother.

"Well, look at it this way," Nathan explains with an almost eerie calm. "She didn't seem very shocked about our abilities, _and_ she obviously knew that Claire was still alive. I'm willing to bet that there are plenty of other things that she's aware of, too, on some level, but I'm guessing she won't properly consider them or even admit to her suspicions—maybe not even to herself—because, yeah… I'm sure I don't have to draw you a picture of why denial might be the better option here."

Peter narrows his eyes. "You've been giving all this a lot of thought, haven't you?"

Nathan grins, fully realising that there's no need for him to answer that question. His brother knows him well enough to know that he rarely –if ever- acts on impulse.

Nathan's a lawyer, a politician and a born strategist; he strategises his way through every aspect of his life every single day, except…

Except when it comes to his little brother.

No, the usual rules definitely don't apply to his relationship with Peter, but perhaps that's not such a bad thing.

Peter, being who he is, would only find all sorts of creative ways to get Nathan to break them for him and sooner rather than later, Nathan would do just that, time after time, for the sole, simple reason that when it comes to love, strength and weakness often go hand in hand.

So this, the path of least resistance, saves them both a lot of time, energy and aggravation.

And all Peter can do now is to run a hand through his hair and mutter, "Well, _shit_."

Nathan smiles. "I meant what I said earlier, you know," he offers, suddenly serious again. "I wouldn't be who I am today if it wasn't for you, and I came so damn close to losing you today, that I…"

"Don't," Peter brusquely cuts him off.

Nathan frowns. "Don't what?"

"Don't talk like that, like some great tragedy actually happened. I'm still here. I'm _fine_."

"Yeah, Pete, fair enough, but if Claire hadn't—"

"Actually," Peter interrupts again. "On second thought, it's better if you don't talk at all." With both hands, he grabs his brother's head and pulls him close again, capturing his lips in a rough, needy kiss.

Nathan responds in kind, kissing back eagerly.

"Are you sure you're already feeling up to this?" he asks a moment later when they break apart again, both slightly out of breath.

Peter grins. "I regenerate, remember? I guess I'm just as indestructible as"—his grin turns devious—"your _daughter_ now."

Nathan rolls his eyes. "You just had to go and rub that in, didn't you?"

Peter gives his brother a challenging look. "Birth control, smartass. Ever heard of it?"

"I guess it's lucky that I can't get you pregnant, isn't it, _nurse_?" Nathan shoots back, neatly circumventing the issue of his past indiscretion with Meredith.

"You're more than welcome to try," Peter replies with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows.

Nathan shakes his head. "I guess there's only one way to shut you up. Do you have any…?"

"Yeah. Usual place."

Nathan nods. He reaches for the bag on the floor and takes out the lube. "You'll have to be very quiet, though," he says.

"I'm always quiet," Peter retorts, sounding almost indignant.

"No, you're not," Nathan says flatly, and before Peter can protest, Nathan leans over to suck on a particularly sensitive part of Peter's neck and the deep moan that follows nicely proves his point for him.

"Right. So, as you reminded me," Nathan goes on, unfazed, "our mom and my daughter are just a few rooms down, so you'll have to be quiet. I don't want to have to gag you."

"Are you sure about that?" Peter asks with a wicked chuckle. "Maybe it'd be an interesting… experiment."

"Very funny, Pete. You're a real comedian. Now hush."

Peter chuckles again, and Nathan looks at him, then, studies him carefully, or as carefully as the dim light will allow; he's unblemished, perfect, like he was never even hurt at all, and his crooked, boyish smile never fails to make his older brother's heart melt.

"I love you, Peter," Nathan says sincerely, all signs of teasing gone from his voice.

"Love you, too, Nathan."

Not another word is spoken as they make love slowly and gently, almost as though it's their first time all over again and Peter is just the shy, inexperienced nineteen-year-old he was back then.

Pleasurable moans are lost in kisses, so that no one can hear, and Peter's groan of completion is muffled by Nathan's shoulder. Nathan himself has long mastered the art of climaxing silently. It's the sort of skill you acquire quickly in shared dorms where any kind of privacy is rarely to be found.

Afterwards, feeling relaxed and reconnected, they lie in each other's arms, occasionally kissing tenderly, until restful, dreamless sleep finally claims them both.

The following morning, there's no one who disturbs them or asks difficult, confrontational questions.

In fact, aside from them, the large house turns out to be conveniently empty and Angela and Claire don't get back until noon.

They've been out shopping, which, Nathan considers, is an odd sort of thing to have been doing, given the circumstances, but he pushes all thoughts of whatever that might mean to the back of his mind because he suspects that his mother doesn't want to ask him about this any more than he wants to explain it to her, and this whole thing probably falls under the unspoken consensus that some things are better left unsaid.

A little after one o'clock, Peter helps his mother set the table.

In the kitchen, Nathan makes some joke, winks, and Peter grins impishly in response.

It's just another day.


End file.
